


Drabbles Every Weekend

by fanspired



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Horror, Humor, Mostly Gen, Mostly humor, POV Outsider, Prompt Fic, Song Parody, Various Genres, also:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanspired/pseuds/fanspired
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles mostly written for the spn_bigpretzel DEW challenge at Live Journal and the SPN100 challenge at Fanfiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gourmand

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be aiming to post at least one a week. This first one was my response to the challenge: Crowley and Cheese.

“What I had in mind was a matured Red Leicester with a precocious little Shiraz. Not . . .” Crowley indicated their surroundings with a sweeping hand gesture that fittingly summed up his contempt for the cheap, bourgeois restaurant.  
  
Dean ignored him, only lifting his head when the sassy blonde waitress arrived at their table. “Welcome to The Cheesecake Factory!” she said. “What can I get you boys?”  
  
“The cherry deluxe, please, sweetheart,” Dean replied, handing her the menu. “Extra large.”  
  
“And two spoons?” she asked, glancing at Crowley.  
  
Dean frowned. “What for?”  
  
Crowley sighed. “I’ll just have coffee. Black.”  
  
.


	2. Fun Fact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't for spn_bigretzel; it was actually inspired by a piece of trivia I came across in an article on weird medieval practices, but I thought I'd post it here anyway :)

“Huh.”  
  
Dean’s shoulder muscles tightened. “What?” He’d learned to be wary of that exclamation while Sam was researching.  
  
Sam studied his laptop screen without meeting Dean’s gaze. “Apparently in medieval times ‘freckles were considered a disgusting, unsightly blemish. Sulphur would be vigorously rubbed into the skin daily to minimize their appearance’,” he quoted.  
  
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “So?” he demanded warningly.  
  
Sam pursed his lips. “You’d just think . . . after all that time in Hell – “  
  
“ _Shut it_ ,” Dean growled.  
  
.

 

 


	3. Character Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special DEW challenge: all the twos - in honour of Jensen and Danneel's news!

“Little Shop 4 Horrors” babywear store was living up to its name. The body of the sales assistant had been found . . . all over, apparently hacked apart by a slimy monster with an axe. Sam studied the splatter pattern on the floor. ‘Dean, do we have any duct tape?” Well, it had helped once before . . . “Dean –  ?” All thought in Sam’s brain popped like a soap bubble as he witnessed his brother holding two pairs of baby shoes, one in each hand, and he was _walking_ them along the counter.  
  
“Have you ever seen anything so _adorable_?” His voice rose to a bizarre cutesy octave. “They’re _sooooo_ tiny!”  
  
Sam stared. “Dean . . . what is _wrong_ with you?”  
  
Dean’s bottom lip fell loose. His gaze dropped to his hands then he hurriedly replaced the shoes in their rack. “I ha – have no idea,” he stammered. Recovering, he squared his shoulders, worked his head and neck in his collar and straightened his tie. “So, axe wielding slime monster,” he continued in his normal register, as if nothing amiss had happened, and focused attentively on the splatter pattern.  
  
“Do we have any duct tape?” he asked.  
  
.


	4. Splashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel DEW challenge at Live Journal: Meg + fish

“Careful, Dean,” Meg sneered. “Wouldn’t want to harm this pretty blonde meat-suit.”  
  
“This won’t hurt _her_ much.” He upended the bucket of holy water over her and waited for the smoke. Instead, her jeans split along the seams revealing scaly flesh. “What the hell - ?”  
  
“You boys have really screwed up this time,” Meg bitched as fins unfurled from beneath the denim and, finally, a full tail flip-flopped against the floor.  
  
“She’s a fish!” Tom Hanks opined from the TV.  
  
Dean blinked awake and reached for the remote. “Man, I gotta stop watching old chick-flicks at night,” he muttered.

 

.


	5. RESIDENTS ASSOCIATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had nothing for the DeW challenge this week, but
> 
> ####  [kalliel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kalliel/pseuds/kalliel)
> 
> posted the above pic on Live Journal with the fic prompt: "I now have a mighty need for this "passive-aggressive letter writer is annoyed by the guests in 112B" fic"
> 
> Of course, I couldn't resist!

**_Tuesday:_** _to the occupants of apartment 112B_  
_Hello, we do hope your exorcism was successful last night. We do ask as a courtesy to us and the other neighbors on this floor that you limit expelling demons to Friday and Saturday nights. Thank you in advance._  
  
**Wednesday:** to the occupants of apartment 112B  
Hello again, we trust your vampire issue had a satisfactory outcome. Please remember, however, that the smell of skunk cabbage can be offensive to residents with allergies and other olfactory sensitivities. Also, you may have forgotten our recycling practices. It would be helpful if, in future, you could ensure that decapitated heads are disposed of in the bin for biodegradable material.  
  
**Thursday:** to the occupants of apartment 112B  
When applying for your subscription, is it possible that you inadvertently neglected to mention that your address is 112 B? Your magazine was mistakenly left in our mailbox. We hope you enjoy your issue of “Busty Asian Beauties”.  
  
**Friday:** to the occupants of apartment 112B  
When entertaining your angelic friends, could you please ask them to observe our guidelines on noise pollution and maximum reasonable decibel levels. Several residents have reported breakages and interference with their television viewing.  
  
**Saturday:** to the occupants of apartment 112B  
After some discussion at a meeting of the residents, it was agreed that we feel unable to share the cost for the removal of blood stains from the carpet in the entryway. We must ask that you bear full responsibility, and enclose the invoice from Crowley’s Moonlight Cleaning Services which we trust you will settle at your earliest convenience.  
  
**Sunday:** to the occupants of apartment 112A  
My brother and I would like to apologize for any and all inconvenience caused while ridding your neighborhood of supernatural predators and making it safe to live in for fine upstanding citizens like yourself. Regrettably, circumstances dictate that we must leave this charming residence tonight, but we hope you will accept the enclosed parting gift of a lucky rabbit’s foot by way of recompense.  
Yours, with due respect, _The Winchesters._  
  
.


	6. Back in . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel DEW challenge at Live Journal: a female character and Dean Winchester.

His hand glided lovingly over the familiar lines of her body. His touch was warm and intimate and, as his eager fingers reached for her, she opened easily for him. He moved inside her, feeling her warm and supple embrace as he seated himself against her, and he breathed a soft, quiet sigh of satisfaction.  
  
Sam coughed. “Are you _sure_ you two don’t need some alone time?” he asked.  
  
Dean scowled back at him then leaned forward and gave the dash a soothing, conciliatory pat. “Don’t you listen to him, baby,” he said. “He _still_ doesn’t understand us.”

 

.


	7. A nasty case of crabs

"OH MY GOD!" Dean rolled around on the bottom of the deck, clutching frantically at his groin. "It's agony! It's freakin' AGONY!"  
  
"OK, well hold still or I can't help you!" Sam yelled back.  
  
"Let's take a vacation," Dean had said. "We'll ‘borrow’ a yacht and cruise the Carribean. It'll be fun!" Dean had said.   
  
Turns out there's all manner of evil lurking in the depths of the ocean and they were just as busy now as they ever were on dry land. Sam was researching how to kill Leviathan lobsters when they were attacked by demonic crabs, and a particularly ferocious specimen had sunk its claws into the front of Dean's speedos.  
  
"Do something, Sam! Get it off! _Get it OFF me!_ "  
  
Sam raised the salt gun.  
  
"Not like that!" Dean screamed. "NOT LIKE THAT!"

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had nothing for the [spn_bigpretzel](http://spn_bigpretzel.livejournal.com/profile) challenge this week so I thought I share this drabble instead, inspired by [caranfindel](http://caranfindel.livejournal.com/profile)'s Live Journal post, [Season on a Boat](http://caranfindel.livejournal.com/105995.html)


	8. One of us . . . is lying . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus drabble inspired by the Entertainment Weekly cover shoot interview.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?”  
  
“Sure. You know where it is.”  
  
He loped up the stairs and along the corridor then dodged into the master bedroom and through to the en-suite. Opening and closing cabinet doors, he hastily riffled through the assorted bottles and tubes. He was troubled by occasional stabs of guilt when his questing fingers lit on odd inappropriate items, but he wasn’t interested in those.  
  
He startled at the sound of a nearby footfall, hurriedly snapped a cupboard door shut and turned just as the bathroom door opened.  
  
“Jared?!”  
  
“Danny!”  
  
Their faces both wore frozen expressions, one of shock, one of shame.  
  
“The guest bathroom’s down the hall, Jared.”  
  
“I got turned around, Dan,” Jared explained, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Sorry.” But as he fled from the room he thought he caught the ghost of a knowing smile at the corners of Danneel’s lips. She _knew_ , as did Jared, that Jensen had to have a bottle of Grecian 2000 stashed _somewhere!_

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired, in particular, by this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc3J5uxrimw :P


	9. Hell on Wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rules of “Hell on Wheels” are simple: last one in the car wins it. Sam and Dean laughed so hard when they heard about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DeW Special Challenge: Place one or more Supernatural characters of your choice in a reality show.

Sam blinked awake as the opening chords of “Highway to Hell” assaulted his ears for the fortieth time that week. There were 2000 tracks on the Ipod but Dean only seemed able to find AC/DC.  
  
“Welcome to the new Winchester motel,” Dean greeted him cheerily and passed him a beer. “We don’t have cable, but we still have room service.”  
  
Sam tapped the small screen embedded in the back of the passenger seat. “Actually, I think we _might_ have cable. If you just let me in the front for a bit I might be able to find the – “  
  
“No chance in hell, Sammy.”  
  
Sam sighed. Reaching up, he pressed a button in the roof panel and the sky-light opened with a smooth electronic whirr. The fresh air barely made a difference to the rankness in the vehicle’s interior, but it helped a little.  
  
“This car does have some great features,” he observed.  
  
“Yeah, but I miss the bench seat,” Dean retorted, pressing a button that gently lowered his back rest until Sam’s legs were crushed beneath it.  
  
 Sam sighed again, closed the roof once more, and let one rip.  
  
  
  
The radio station manager approached the show producer. “Any change?” he asked tersely.  
  
“Not since they drove the other contestants out of the car in the first few hours. Now they just seem to be getting comfortable.”  
  
“They’re not arguing _at all_?”  
  
“Oh, they’re arguing _all the time_! Just doesn’t seem to bother them.”  
  
“How long’s it been now?”  
  
“Eight days.”  
  
The manager clicked his teeth in frustration. “Check with the lawyers. See if we can stop feeding them,” he snapped. “And _take away the beer_!”  
  
  
  
Dean was trying to open the sky-light but Sam had managed to get a foot out from under the seat and had it wedged in his brother’s face instead. “Have you thought about what the hell we’re going to do with an extra car when we win it?” he asked conversationally while he resisted Dean’s efforts to reach the roof panel.  
  
“When _I_ win it, you mean,” Dean insisted through clenched teeth as he tried not to gag.  
  
“Or, I win.”  
  
“Dream on, Bitch.”  
  
Sam waggled his toes. “Jerk.”  
  
.


	10. For the record . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel DEW challenge at Live Journal: Balthazar + string

“Honestly, I thought you’d be pleased.” The angel raised his hands theatrically. “I mean, don’t you _ever_ get tired of Texans _always_ claiming theirs is bigger?” He rolled his eyes. “The biggest oil wells, the tallest buildings, largest hats, biggest ball – ”  
  
“Balthazar!”  
  
 “As a Kansas lad yourself, I thought you’d appreciate a few extra inches, just to settle – ”  
  
“ _Change it back!_ ” Sam’s face was a picture of moral indignation.  
  
“You heard my brother.” Dean didn’t really get it. Admiring the impressive erection, he couldn’t help sympathizing with the dick angel’s argument. So what if it had had a little . . . ah . . . heavenly augmentation? But if Sam demanded authenticity, Dean would back his play.  
  
Balthazar sighed expansively. “Oh, _very well_.”  
  
The monument shrank visibly before their eyes and as the angel vanished with a petulant flutter Sam relaxed, apparently satisfied in the knowledge that Cawker City, Kansas was still the home of, supposedly, the second largest ball of twine in the continental US.  
  
.


	11. Man and the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new point of view can make a world of difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel DEW challenge at Live Journal: The Man in the Moon.

He once compared his possession with being chained to a comet but, today, the angel was still – for he knew not how long – face turned toward a distant blue-green sphere. Awed by the radiant beauty hung against the jeweled darkness, for once, Jimmy didn’t curse the feathered glory that made him tenant in his own body.  
  
It was a new perspective. From here one might admire God’s creation distanced from those who live and suffer on the ground. But since Castiel was made to wallow in the mire and blood his perspective, also, has changed.  
  
Now angel and vessel are one, united in sympathy with those brothers who love the world enough to fight for it, just as it is.  
  
.


	12. Character Bleed 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenge/Prompt: spn_bigpretzel DeW: domesticity - a sequel to Character Bleed (chapter 3)

Sam was disconcerted on entering his room to find Dean there, wearing overalls and covered from head to foot in light flecks. His gaze flicked between the roller in his brother’s hand and the half-painted walls.  
  
“Dean . . . what are you doing?”  
  
“Your room needed a make-over. It’s positively Spartan.”  
  
“Uh . . . any particular reason you chose baby-pink?”  
  
Dean glanced at the paint tin. Sam could tell from his confused expression he was hard-pressed for an answer, but he recovered quickly. “Just seemed like the right color for you, somehow,” he insisted, grinning.  
  
  
  
  


.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: written in honour of Jared's announcement about Gen's news :)


	13. Life Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenge/Prompt: spn_bigpretzel DeW: nudity

“Hey! _You_ said art class was a good way to meet girls.”  
  
“This isn’t what I had in mind!”  
  
Dean didn’t know what his brother was complaining about. It looked to him like the ladies in this class were plenty interested in the new guy.  “Anyway, break’s over,” he pointed out. “Back on your pedestal, princess.”  
  
Sam glared, climbed on the podium, struck a pose, and dropped his robe – to a chorus of audible gasps from the female students . . . and a couple of the men.  
  
Dean studied his palette. “I’m gonna need more red,” he observed.

 

.


	14. The First Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenge/Prompt: spn_bigpretzel DeW: Sam, Dean and Britain

“Wow! Did you _see_ this car?”  
  
“See it?” Sam shook his head. “I can’t look away. And I’m _trying_ ,” he added.  
  
“Wow.” Dean gazed admiringly at the proud, classic lines of the vintage Rolls Royce. “I’m not normally a fan of the British gentry, but you’ve gotta admit they have style. I mean, that is really . . . ”  
  
“Pink.”  
  
“Yeah, but it’s – “  
  
“Really, _really_ pink.”  
  
“Yeah, but it’s actually pretty fabulous. And it knows it.” Dean indicated the number plate.  
  
FAB 1  
  
  
.


	15. It's 5 o'clock in the morning . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel 5th Birthday Bash, and the DEW challenge "It's 5 o'clock" and inspired by Godley and Creme's song "Five O'clock in the Morning"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to [JJ1564 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564)who has created a wonderful song picspam to accompany my parody at http://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/1043730.html, and to Godley and Creme whose original song can be found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-3z2FdJXSo

It's 5 o'clock in the morning  
and I could be in a bed,  
so I’m wond’ring why I’m in Texas hunting something that’s undead.  
But the monster’s open for business  
and 5-oh’s eyes are closed,  
so it’s up to us  
or the teenage twink is toast.  
Opening up the weapons cache  
and loading up the guns  
while all across the world  
there’s people buttering their toasted buns  
and our battle with  
the Jekylls and the Hydes has just begun.  


It's 6 o'clock in the morning.  
I’m only half awake.  
The other half is dreaming  
of a nice thick juicy steak as something  
slithers out of the bathroom  
and Sam yells in my ear  
“Get up!” “ _Dean!_ ” “Get out of here!”  
The smell of smoke and rock salt  
makes me think of curly fries,  
and all the crazy things we’ve done  
keep flashing past my eyes.  
Then the thing I’m holding  
sinks its claws into my thighs.  
And it’s on!  


Shifting through the gears.  
It's 8 o'clock in the morning.  
It's been 8 o'clock for years.  
But the slimy thing is dusted  
and its victims all got out.  
And I’m done in.  


It's 9 o'clock in the morning.  
It’s time for sleepy-bye . . .  
but the motel bed is hard and lumpy  
and, besides, Sam’s just come in with beer and pie . . .

.


	16. Curses Foiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has problems articulating his frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Supernatural 100 Challenge: https://www.fanfiction.net/community/Supernatural-One-Hundred-Drabble-Challenge/118244/
> 
> Challenge word: flip

“Flip,” Dean complained, then glowered at Sam – like it was _his_ fault.

“Just try to stop saying it.”

“I am _trying_. Hurry with that counter-spell! _Flippin’_ witches!”

Sam smirked as he shredded ingredients into the bowl. “It’s kinda poetic justice, Dean. You _did_ call Rowena a b—”

“She _is_ a flip! _”_ Dean launched a frustrated kick at the bed, stubbed his toe and yelled “flip!” then _“FLIP!”_

Sam finished the incantation and nodded.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean murmured, then grinned and yelled triumphantly “SON OF A BITCH!” He collapsed on the bed with relief.

“Feel better now?”

“Much.”

 

.


	17. Night Crawler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every family needs a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Supernatural 100 Challenge: https://www.fanfiction.net/community/Supernatural-One-Hundred-Drabble-Challenge/118244/
> 
> Challenge word: creep

Gunfire from Dean’s room brought Sam running, but bullet holes in the walls and floorboards and the sight of his brother standing on the bed were clues there was no immediate cause for alarm.

 

“Where is it?”

 

“Under the desk. It’s HUGE! I heard it creep across the floor! I _heard_ it coming, Sam!”

 

“You don’t think trying to shoot it was an over-reaction?”

 

“You know the rules: nothing in this room has more legs than me!”

 

Sam bent down, gently scooped the terrified spider into his hand and carried it outside. It was worth it to glimpse that rare “you’re my hero!” look on Dean’s face.

 

,


	18. Purple Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I never meant to cause you any sorrow. I never meant to cause you any pain. I only wanted to one time to see you laughing. I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain." Prince, "Purple Rain".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's DEW prompt was 'purple', while the SPN100 Challenge word was 'storm'. So, obviously . . .

Rain hammered the window while Prince crooned from the juke box.

“How many apocalypses has it been now?” Buffy asked.

“Must be at least nine,” Angel confirmed, “and I helped –”

“Four times?”

“Five.”

Iron Man prodded his shawarma. “Me and my friends have saved the world a lot. Once I nearly died.”

“Hey, I died twice!” Buffy objected.

Dean indicated himself. “Hundreds of times. _And_ I went to Hell.”

“How many times?” Angel asked innocently.

 “We saved the _Galaxy_!” Star-Lord boasted.  “And we’re gonna do it again!”

Dean frowned and quietly asked Sam, “explain the raccoon to me again.”

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: also inspired by Prince’s explanation of his song, as quoted on Wikipedia, and with a nod toward HISHE’s hero café on youtube.


	19. Trixanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The play's the thing! In which Gabriel casts the brothers in his own private performance of a French classic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's DEW prompt was 'the Trickster/Gabriel and any famous book', while the SPN100 Challenge word was 'nose'. Thus . . .

Gabriel (on balcony wearing girly nightdress): _You speak badly! Go away! You don’t love me!_

Dean (below, p _rompted by Sam_ ): _To accuse me! Heavenly creature! Of no longer loving when_ (grimaces) _I love you more!_

Gabriel: Better!

Sam (reading from play text): _Love grew within rocked in my anxious soul which, cruel boy, it took for a cradle!_

Dean: I’m not saying that! It’s frickin’ humiliating!

Sam: You’re humiliated! _Look and tell me what exuberance I can have with this protuberance!_

Dean (studies the long, pointed nose Gabriel has given Sam and shrugs): I can’t see any difference.

Sam: (bitch-face)

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text (italicized) from Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano De Bergerac, translated by A. S. Kline for “Poetry in Translation”, and from the 1990 movie version starring Gerard Depardieu


	20. Massive Oversight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fails to give enough weight to his baby's warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW prompt, the Impala and gravity, anf the SPN 100 challenge, dense.

The boys were excited to be hunting a mountain troll since they were thought to be long extinct. Sam even insisted on keeping the body to study its unique physiology. Trolls have exceptionally high bone and muscle density; despite being an immature specimen only four feet high, it took both brothers to lift its weight into my trunk.

Dean can be a little dense himself sometimes, but it's unlike Sam to overlook a detail that's related to the creature's mass: trolls turn to stone when exposed to sunlight. And I think both may have forgotten the trunk still has bullet holes from last week's hunt. I tried to warn them: I was shamefully slow to start and misfired repeatedly driving down the mountain pass, but Dean missed the hint until the sudden extra weight at dawn dragged my back wheels off the road.

Now, as I desperately try to maintain balance, rocking precariously over the edge of the precipice, I think we all appreciate the gravity of the situation.

.


	21. One For The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW challenge in honour of Sam's birthday, and the SPN100 prompt words "road" and "trip".

Sam tipped back his beer chaser, rocked backwards and hurriedly gripped the bar. “OK, time to go.”

 

“Don’t throw in the towel, yet, Sammy! It’s your birthday!” Dean insisted, adding cajolingly “just one for the road.”

 

Sam sighed. “Just one.”

 

Grinning wickedly, Dean produced a glass of varicolored liquids, umbrellas and plastic monkeys. “Chug, chug, chug,” he recited quietly, lifting the straw to his brother’s lips, growing ever louder as Sam’s cheeks gradually hollowed and his eyes crossed.

 

Outside, watching Sam trip over the kerb and face-plant on the tarmac, Dean wondered idly if that’s where the expression came from.

 

.


	22. Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is said, of the five senses, smell is most connected to memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the SPN100 challenge: Fire.
> 
>  **Warning** : This one isn't funny.

Flames flutter like wings whip dark yellow orange at sputtering tips black and blue rock back and forth below. Mummy body white wrapped shroud singeing black in strips. Like marshmallow. 

“Did he say anything to you? About anything?”

“No. Nothing.”

Wind changes. Inhaling smoke and cooked meat. Familiar smell. Most linked to memory.

Fire rolls like waves over ceiling. Mom drowns in yellow sea. Woman in white and red then black. “Now, Dean! Go!” Roast dinner smell. Sunday barbecue.

“Hey, Dean!” Grinning, Sid hands him a beer. “We eating soon, buddy?”

“Another minute.” He grins back, and turns the steaks.

 

.


	23. Uninvited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At bath time, a man likes to choose his company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW challenge, **Dean + creepy crawlies** , and the SPN100 prompt, **float**.

The sound of gunfire from the bathroom brought Sam running, although he was growing used to these artillery outbursts and suspected he knew the cause. As he burst through the door his expectations were confirmed by the sight of his brother standing naked and dripping by the bathtub, smoking gun still in hand, while bits of dead spider floated in water that was rapidly emptying through a bullet hole in the enamel.

“Good shot,” Sam acknowledged, but he had to wonder as he glanced around the bare room, and again at the naked shooter. “Where were you keeping the gun?”

.


	24. Reverie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freer thoughts may fly forth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW challenge, **Impala + dreams** , and the SPN100 prompt, **marble**

I get bored in the bunker. Though I’m safe here from theft and rust, I was happier when I was free to feel wind and rain, see life around me, always changing. Here nothing changes; nothing new to see. I dream of the highway, traveling the country again.   
  
Sometimes I dream of other countries. Dean hates to fly and he’d never trust me to a storage hold, but how good it would be to drive the unfettered German autobahn, or the spaghetti asphalt of the Italian Alps. They call it the old world. They say Europe has churches a thousand years old. How strange! They talk of great art, and sculpted statues so fine they seem alive.   
  
Still, statues are only hard, cold marble. I have my boys – here they come – walking, breathing art in warm, living flesh.  
  
.


	25. A little bit bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A news item prompts a hunt, and an all too predictable response from Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW challenge, **Sam + news/newsflash/newsreader** , and the SPN100 prompt, **cross**.

_“. . . third bizarre death at Hefner’s Playboy Mansion . . .”_

Sam paused his research to absorb the latest details from CNN.

 

“Anything?” Dean asked.

 

“Yes, the victims all connect to a model who died in the seventies. Could be a spirit. But how would we get into there?”

 

“You could pass as a model.”

 

Sam sighed, mildly aggravated, but Dean needed to work harder.

 

“You’d look real sexy in a bikini.”

 

“ _Dean_.”

 

“With floppy ears, and the tail, you’d be smokin’!”

 

Sam’s annoyance mounted, seeing where this was going. “Don’t!” he warned.

 

“Then you’d be – ”

 

“Don’t say it.”

 

“You know you want me to.”

 

“ _No_!”

 

Dean grinned triumphantly. “A hot, cross bunny!”

 

.


	26. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble with take-out: there are days you don't know what you're getting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the SPN100 Challenge: cramp

Dean examined the offending packet. He knew from the get go there was something wrong. It wasn’t just the taste, or even the smell; it was the way his stomach reacted to the first mouthful – the warning cramp that alerted him that his body already instinctively knew something bad was coming.

When he looked up he found Sam was watching him intently. He seemed oddly concerned and anxious for some reason, which was weird but, then again, dude had been acting weird all morning, so what was new?

Dean’s stomach growled ominously. “These tacos taste funny to you?” he asked.

 

.


	27. The Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hospital haunting yields an unexpected health benefit, but Dean doesn't appreciate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the SPN100 Challenge: finger

Dean returned from the consulting room. It seemed to Sam that he was . . . walking oddly.

“Did you get any intel on the dead hospital porter?” Sam asked.

“That and a whole lot I _didn’t_ ask for,” Dean snapped. “The doc decided I needed a _thorough_ examination. Do I look old enough to need a prostate check?”

“It’s not the years, Dean; it’s the mileage.”

Dean glared. “Next time, _you_ can pretext as the patient.”

Sam responded with an appropriate hand gesture.

“ _Don’t_!” Dean growled. “That’s not even funny.”

Sam grinned, wickedly. “It’s a little bit funny,” he insisted.

 

.


	28. Shape-shifters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some seasonal eye-candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the DEW challenge, **Halloween costumes and dressing up** , and the SPN100 prompt, **glow**

They were surrounded by vampires, werewolves, ghouls, an astronaut, various slutty nurses, and three slutty pumpkins. Sam loitered self-consciously at the door while Dean strode into the party like he was walking onto a yacht.  
  
“Stay sharp, Sam. Any one of these could be the shifter!”  
  
“Why did I have to come as Cat Woman?” Sam grumbled, immediately regretting it as he realized he’d fed Dean his perfect cue to say –  
  
“Because _I’m Batman._ ”  
  
Sam tugged irritably at his armpits and crotch. “All this rubber is making me sweat.”  
  
“No, Sammy. Remember: Animals sweat, and men perspire, but _ladies_ glow!”

 

.


	29. Fisher of Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has some down time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the SPN100 challenge: wiggle.
> 
> **Warning** : a bit nasty.

Dean thrust his hand into the soft, slimy meat of the bait box and selected a worm at random. Picking up his rod he threaded the sharp point of a hook through the head of the worm, pausing briefly to watch it wiggle and squirm helplessly at the end of the line before casting it out into the rapidly flowing river - where it would soon be swallowed by some ravenous carnivore, or slowly drown in the chill waters.

And Dean wondered, for an uncharitable moment, if this was a glimpse of what it was like to be Chuck.

 

.


	30. Simple Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the SPN100 prompt words: simple, trash & earth

Dean trudged outside, dodging puddles from an overnight downpour. Opening the bin, he tossed the bag onto the pile, and closed the lid hastily. All the while he held his breath to avoid catching the heady olfactory experience of rotten food, gunpowder, abramelin oil, goofer dust, eviscera, monster fluids various . . . The bunker’s trash could be an interesting mix.

He was beyond the parking lot before he could cleanse his lungs with fresh air. The breeze brought smells of ordinary daily life: exhaust fumes, tarmac, new mown grass, damp earth.

Occasionally simple things made up for a lot.


	31. Son of a Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks ago, the SPN100 challenge was to “use the name of a country other than the United States in your drabble”, while the DEW prompts were “a character of your choice” with “beach”. An idea immediately occurred to me; it’s just taken me until now to get it on paper.

“Ah, the sun! The sand! The surf!” Mini!Dean sighed contentedly. “Gotta love the lucky country, Sammy!”  
  
Mini!Sam’s head twisted from the crashing waves to the tiny surf board. He doubted this would end well, but didn’t want to dampen his brother’s enthusiasm for their new Australian home.  
  
A roar of childish laughter and thunderous running footsteps interrupted Sam’s anxieties. Suddenly there was a loud “crump” sound, and all there was left to see of Dean was the top of a shiny plastic head extruding from a damp sandy footprint. From beneath, he heard a muffled cry of “ _mmm mm m mmmph_!”  
  
  
**A/N:** The adventures of Funk Pop Sam and Dean in Australia can be found on my Livejournal page. See especially: <https://fanspired.livejournal.com/55575.html>


	32. Guardians, too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DEW special challenge - Put the Easter Bunny into a 'Supernatural' scenario.

“Is this going to become a habit?” Sam complained.  
  
“I dunno. It’s kinda cute.”  
  
Sam stared at the soppy grin on his brother’s oddly drawn features.  
  
“Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?” The question had never seemed more apt.  
  
Wings fluttered and whizzed in front of his face and he barely resisted the reflex to swat before Tooth Fairy’s excessively cheery voice urged “come on, boys! It’s going to take all of us to defeat Pitch!”  
  
“I can’t wait to drive the sleigh!” Dean gushed.  
  
“Only North drives the sleigh, mate!” Easter Bunny insisted, thumping the ground with his foot. “We’re taking the express route.”  
  
A hole opened beneath them, they hung in the air for a second, then their bodies briefly elongated before snapping back as they dropped.  
  
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA . . . !!!”

 

.


	33. "For the Night is Dark and Full of Terrors"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the SPN100 challenge: ice and fire

_for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons._

"Sam."

Sam closed his book and took the tumbler from his brother's fingers. Scotch on the rocks.

"How's dinner coming?" he asked.

Dean knelt by the fire, turned the skewers in the flames and poked the potatoes with a fork. "Just about done, I'd say," and he started manhandling food onto plates, cursing all the while as the hot foil and metal singed his fingers.

A blast of wind rattled the oaken door in its hinges.

"Winter is coming," Dean quipped, with his best attempt at a Northern Westerosi accent, handing up a plate filled with meat and roast vegetables.

"I'd say it's already here." Sam glanced into the night, watching as icy gusts drove flurries of snow past the cabin window. It was cold in Northern Maine this time of year. "You know, we could be holed up here a while," he observed.

"Well, we've got enough meat to last a while, a couple of bottles of hunters' helper, and you've got a pile of big fat books to read. There are worse ways we could spend Christmas."

Sam pursed his lips in acknowledgment and ice rattled against glass as they clinked their tumblers together in a seasonal toast. Easing back into the comfortable armchair, he stretched his toes toward the warm fire, and picked up the next volume in the series as he chewed appreciatively on a mouthful of roast Chupacabra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both the title and the first line are taken from George R. R. Martin's epic saga, A Song of Ice and Fire.


End file.
